


Passion's Forge

by amyfortuna



Series: 2016 Season of Kink (Card 1) [20]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bend Over Fëanáro, Empathetic Wood, F/M, First Time Bottoming, Pegging, Sex in a Smithy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Nerdanel's newest creation gets her betrothed all hot and bothered.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Silver and Gold Twice Over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691352) by [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna). 



> This fulfils my Season of Kink square for mechanical/technological.

"Put your hands on me," Nerdanel said, reaching for Fëanor's hand and bringing it to the front of her skirt. Fëanor's eyes went wide at what he felt there. 

"What are you wearing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "It feels interesting. Like a -" he broke off suddenly and looked up at her face. She was grinning and blushing. 

"You'll see later," she said, and pushed his hand away. "Meet me in the forge when Telperion's light is at the full, and you'll be _completely satisfied_." She turned away, not without glancing back over her shoulder with a grin at the stunned look on his face, and left the room.

* * *

He was there a little before the appointed time, waiting in the shadows by the front windows of the forge. At this hour the forge was dark, fires banked for the hours of rest. Outside silver light spilled over the grass and trees, and Fëanor could see Nerdanel walking toward him from the house, which was a short distance away. On the other side of Mahtan's house, the apprentice's quarters, where his own bed was growing cold, lay sprawling out, several rooms full of eager young smiths. At this hour they should all be sleeping. 

Nerdanel opened the door of the forge. "Fëanáro?" she called softly, and he stepped out of the shadows. He could see that she carried a small silken bag in her hand, and wondered why. 

"What are your plans, my love?" he said with a smile, leaning forward to press himself against her and the hardness at her groin. 

"Mmm, can you not guess?" she said, and kissed him deeply and slowly, relishing the opportunity. "I have made something that will help us survive the next few months until we can be wed," she went on, her lips very close to his. "Do you want to _fuck_ , Fëanáro?"

He drew in a breathless gasp at the coarse word from her lovely lips, and could feel himself getting hard immediately. "Yes," he breathed against her lips. 

"Then let me have you," she said, and smiled wickedly. She pressed in close against him, and suddenly the nature of the thing she had made was clear. It was some sort of hard phallus, jutting out from her groin. 

"How does it work?" Fëanor said, mind whirling between arousal and curiosity. She smiled, and slowly drew her dress off, baring herself before him. When she was fully exposed, he went to his knees almost reflexively, to more closely examine the device she was wearing. 

It was carved of wood, highly polished, with ridges like veins over it. The end flared out and was caught against her pubic bone by means a series of leather straps, all wound about her waist. She leaned forward as he examined it and pressed the head of it against his mouth. He cast a quick glance up at her and let her press forward, inching the phallus into his mouth. 

"Suck it," she whispered, "like I sucked you that night in the forest." Fëanor's mind lit up with memory and imagination, and he began to run his tongue along the surface of the shaft, learning the curves and veins of it. He carefully sucked at it, being sure to cover his teeth as he remembered her doing on his altogether more fleshly shaft, and she groaned softly, as though he were sucking a real cock. 

He cast a quizzical glance up at her, but she smiled down at him and put her hand on his head, thrusting very carefully with her hips in and out of his mouth. 

"You look terribly beautiful doing that," she said, "but that's not the ultimate goal." With her free hand, she gestured to a table in a shadowy corner of the forge. "I want to fuck you, Fëanáro, I've been dreaming about it for weeks, all the time I spent carving this." He took in a shuddering breath, letting the phallus drop out of his mouth. 

"Yes," he said, and then almost wrenched from him: "Please."

They made their way over to the table in the corner. "Take your clothes off," Nerdanel said, laying her own clothes down nearby and reaching into her silken bag. Fëanor complied quickly, setting his clothes down next to hers. "Bend over the table." She smiled, and it was a mischievous smile. "I promise I'll be gentle."

He looked apprehensive but obeyed, bracing his hands on the table itself, exposing himself to her. She took a moment to admire the view. "I need to prepare you." Nerdanel unstoppered the bottle of oil she'd brought with her and coated her fingers in it, then pressed one finger gently against Fëanor's hole. 

Fëanor gasped and almost tried to pull away. "Stay still for me," Nerdanel said. "And relax. This won't hurt if you trust me." 

Fëanor let his head hang down, taking a deep breath. "I trust you," he said. She pressed inward, and true to her word, it did not hurt. 

"That feels strange but I rather like it," Fëanor said, now pressing back against her finger. She added another, moving carefully inside him. 

"The secret of my device," Nerdanel said, moving her fingers gently in and out of him, now and again brushing against something inside of him that caused stars to explode behind his eyelids and took his breath away, "is that I will feel that I'm really inside you, as you would feel if you were inside me."

"Oh," Fëanor gasped as she slid a third finger into him, and then, quizzically, "...how?" 

"Empathetic wood," Nerdanel said. "One of Yavanna's lesser-known creations, but, after the Trees themselves, probably my favourite." She smiled, and pressed a kiss to Fëanor's back, pulling her fingers out and draping herself over him. "Are you ready?"

"I..." Fëanor began, and then nodded decisively. "Yes." 

The hard length of her phallus pressed into him, and he cried out, taking his own cock into his hand and slowly beginning to stroke it. She made a soft noise of desire, pulled out, and pressed into him again, just for the sheer pleasure of it. Her first thrusts were slow and tentative. Fëanor rocked back into them, stroking himself in counterpoint.

After a moment, Nerdanel wrapped her arms around him for balance, and began thrusting harder and faster, making small half-muffled cries, stifled against his back. Her desperate noises, combined with the feeling of her length inside him, quickly brought him to the point of orgasm, and he had to stop stroking himself and hold back. 

"Are you close, beloved?" he whispered, and her ragged "Yes," almost made him spill there and then. She thrust a few more times into him, and with a long low moan, came hard, her hips stuttering. The knowledge that she'd taken her pleasure _inside him_ sent him over the edge, and he came hard too, shaking all over and collapsing down to the table in the aftermath, her weight on him. 

"Oh, _stars above_ ," she whispered fervently. "That was amazing." 

It had been. "I love you," he said as she slipped out of him, and turned to catch her in his arms, holding her close. "You are amazing." 

Her smile was radiant. Her brown curls were tumbling loose over her shoulders, and her face was flushed. He thought of the palace gossips' sullen dismissal of his chosen bride as 'not the fairest of her people' and had to keep himself from laughing outright. Not a single one of them, clearly, had ever been fucked like this, nor would they ever have the pleasure. 

"I want you to fuck me all night long," he said, and her smile turned positively wicked. 

"Lay back and get ready," she replied, reaching once more for the bottle of oil.


End file.
